


Another Gotham Night

by LuciferxDamien



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Arousal from Rape, M/M, Paralysis, Rapist feels guilty, Sex Pollen, Unwilling Arousal, rapist in love with victim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/pseuds/LuciferxDamien
Summary: Dick is back in Gotham for one night and Bruce refuses his help on a case. He really shouldn’t have.





	Another Gotham Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FleetSparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/gifts).



> **Author’s Note:** Haha, I kind of combined two of your prompts. ^^; Hope you still enjoy! 
> 
> (My knowledge of Batman canon is primarily from BtAS.)

Waking was always a harsh blow as reality swirled and pulled him back to consciousness. Would he awake to find himself strung up by his ankles again, the Joker’s cackle echoing all around him? Had he passed out in some filthy alleyway due to sudden blood loss? Was he only waking from a nightmare, at home, in his own bed? 

He groaned, sluggish and something was definitely wrong. His arms would hardly move, he couldn’t properly find his hands to scrub the sleep from his face, but it didn’t feel like he was laying in the grit and dirt of Gotham. It was soft, whatever he was on, that much he could discern as he fought to get his eyes open. 

It was blurry, wherever he was. A swirling canopy above and he hissed, the colours seemed familiar, even through the darkness… 

“Bruce…?” A voice, far off, close, he couldn’t be sure but he fought against the darkness pulling at him harder, trying to regain himself. “Bruce… Wait don’t—” 

_Dick…_ That was Dick he was hearing, wasn’t it? 

Bruce struggled all the more to get himself up right. 

“C’mon, Bruce, don’t fight it…” A sigh, so typical of him anymore. “You’re fine, you just gotta wait for it to wear off, now c’mon, don’t… Don’t make it worse, lay back down.” Bruce was trying to push himself up as strong hands pushed at his shoulders. When had Dick grown into such a strong man? “You got hit with something, Alfred checked you out, said you’d be fine once it wore off. Probably come morning.” 

Bruce let out a hiss, the sound sharp and loud to his own ears, but he let warm hands gentle him back down this time and he relaxed so he could let his mind recover. _What had happened?_

There was a call… Ivy. Poison Ivy was out again, and Dick was in town… 

Dick offered to join him, but Bruce had told him no. 

But when did Dick ever really listen to him? 

Bruce groaned, wanting to press the heel of his palm to his forehead, but it was no use; he could barely move enough muscles to make a sound. 

Another sigh and his vision was starting to clear enough to see that it was Dick standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest, pensive. “Dick…” It hurt his throat to force out the word and he was trying to swallow, but it felt like glass shards. 

“C’mon just… Sleep it off for once, yeah, Bruce?” Dick sounded irritated, but he looked worried, his long hair falling over his shoulders. Maybe he would listen, for once. 

He could hear Dick walking away, another sigh, perhaps some muttering to himself, but Bruce was too tired to properly understand him. “I’ll be here, on the sofa, if you need me. You’ll be all right though, you know?” 

Bruce hummed, settling down, rest… He would be fine, once he awoke again, and Bruce let his eyes drift shut, a sweet scent wafting and settling over him. 

But his mind was never so easy to quiet. _What_ was that scent… 

Sleep tugged at him, but his mind resisted and he felt he was flailing, stuck inside his own body, looking for release, looking to be free and… 

That’s right. Poison Ivy had escaped. He had tracked her to her gardens, a term one might use loosely, her hideout a mass of toxins and poisons she was immune to. A place that was risky to even step foot into, unpredictable plants layered over each other, huge vines, small seedlings. To trample on any was to raise her ire tenfold. 

Her stronghold, lined with flower pots and any number of creeping vines lining the walls. He didn’t want to disturb anything, his goal wasn’t to destroy the last of a rare subspecies of plant, but Ivy couldn’t be left to her devices… The inner sanctum was filled with a sweet scent that permeated his breathing mask. 

He had to be careful… Perhaps he should have brought Dick along after all. 

But it didn’t hardly matter, he pressed onward, searching for Ivy, treading lightly until… 

He gave out a groan, trying to open his eyes again, but he felt like he was trapped in a straight jacket, all futile movement, bound to tire himself out before he could break free. A straight jacket would have been a mercy, with locks to pick, buckles to undo, but this, he was fighting his own unresponsive body. 

But _why_ was his body so unresponsive? 

He remembered searching for Ivy, and then, then there was nothing but a blur, a wash of adrenaline, his muscles seizing, the floor hard as he crashed and then soothing in its coolness as his body burned. 

Bruce frowned, pushing a wave of sleep back once more. She must have hit him with one of her toxins, but which one? She had so many, not even he knew just what she was capable of concocting. 

A sound… Bruce could recall a sound in the darkness. 

Rustling and Bruce groaned, struggling to get onto his back, struggling to see that Dick had followed him anyway. Ivy struggled with Nightwing, but Bruce was already fading in and out. He groaned again, his body was so hot, _why_ … 

But the heat was radiating from one place, his groin. Ivy cried out, throwing a gleaming powder that coated Dick, and that was the last that he could remember before struggling to pull himself from unconsciousness, Dick soothing him back down, telling him it would be okay, come morning… 

A groan echoed loud and sharp in his ears, but it wasn’t pulled from his throat. 

That sweet scent filled his nostrils again and his eyes opened much easier this time. 

The room was cold, but his groin felt like it was on fire and Dick was on him, groaning, pulling at his soft cock, sucking on it, attempting to coax him to hardness, but Bruce didn’t feel like he was capable of getting hard, his body frozen and unresponsive. He could barely even feel that Dick was on him, everything was dulled, like he was coated in ice. 

“Dick…” Bruce forced out, but his throat still felt like glass shards were lodged in it. 

Dick pulled off, but kept his hand pumping, clearly desperate to get a response from his body. He laughed, settling back, wiping his free hand across his chin. “You just couldn’t stay asleep, could you…” 

The sweet scent was stronger now and Bruce felt like he was suffocating in it. 

Sex pollen. That’s what Poison Ivy had thrown at Dick. 

Dick sighed, hand languidly trying to pull him to hardness. “Not really sure what Ivy got you with, but you really will be fine, after it wears off.” Dick was sounding distant again, a new wave of sleep and tired and exhaustion pulling at him. “ _Why_ couldn’t you just stay asleep, Bruce?” A broken sound and Bruce couldn’t get his eyes open fast enough to look at Dick. “You never would have known… Just the one time, that’s… that’s all.” Dick looked so sad, so distraught, and then he was releasing Bruce’s cock, moving to straddle his chest. 

Dick was always such a lean boy, all muscle, but no bulk. 

“Why not _me_?! Why is it never me, Bruce?” Dick was looking down at him and Bruce was sure that even if he could move, he would have been paralyzed by the sadness and desperation in Dick’s eyes. 

He had thought this was phase was gone… Washed away by the tides of adulthood, Dick’s teenage crush fading away. Maybe it was more that Bruce had hoped it was gone, rather than actually acknowledging it still lingered. 

Dick was moving back down again, settling between Bruce’s listless thighs. He sighed, his hands on Bruce’s legs, crawling up his thighs. The sensations were stronger, this time, a twitch in his gut to his loins. 

But this wasn’t Dick’s fault… It was the sex pollen. 

He hissed, fingers scraping down his thighs and then… It was difficult to get his eyes open again, but he managed, seeing that Dick’s fingers were glistening with something, something _slick_ and he could do nothing, all his efforts to struggle, to get away were futile. “D-Dick…” It was like sand had been poured down his throat, burning, scraping as he forced the words out. “Stop, you don’t…” 

“ _Quiet_ … I know you like it here.” Dick sounded distant, but his touch was close, far too close, slicked fingers pushing into him, but his limbs were too heavy, his movements too sluggish to push him away. “All the men that you’ve invited in here, don’t pretend like you don’t like this, Bruce.”

A finger slid in and he wasn’t sure if it hurt or not but he hissed anyway. A second finger and he could barely keep his eyes open this time, the waves of sleep or whatever it was that was affecting him, pulling him back, pulling him down. Drowning, suffocating, like a Gotham night… 

The turmoil of their circumstances, the storm of their lives… 

Bruce grit his teeth, a sneer and then he was surging upward again, gasping for air. He was looking into Dick’s eyes, but he knew that Dick wasn’t all there. He wasn’t to blame for this nightmare. 

Tomorrow, they would talk, or they wouldn’t, Bruce didn’t know, he didn’t care. A third finger was in and now he was _definitely_ feeling things. A jolt struck through his groin, and as he looked at Dick, he saw the shimmering powder, shaking from his hair. Bruce tried not to breathe, but he sucked in a harsh breath, inhaling the golden powder. 

Was that Ivy’s plan all along? Hit one of them with the paralyzing powder, the next one with sex pollen? Were they both required, a compound concoction? 

He cried out, his knees pushed up, and Dick was moving, settling closer to him. Haunched back on his knees, Dick hesitated, naked and Bruce hadn’t even noticed. Heat radiated from him and Bruce could only pant, waiting in anticipation. Fear struck through him, the same fear that always gripped him, when he had thought about Dick’s teenage crush… 

Bruce swung from man-to-man and lover-to-lover for a reason… 

“If you had just!” Dick gasped out, looking desperate now. Tears welled in his eyes, his hair a mess, splayed over his shoulders, sticking to his sweat damp chest. “But **no**! All those years, living under your roof… Forced to be near you, forced to watch you flirt and toy and tease, but never at _**me**_!” He broke off into a sob, and then a snarl and then he was jutting forward, thrusting in. 

All the air was stolen from Bruce’s lungs, pushed out in breathy cry. Dick snarled, fully seated and Bruce wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for this, a jolt of pain striking him through his dulled senses. 

“Dick… Don’t…” They could only ever both regret this. The guilt would be theirs to share, the shame would separate them. Bruce knew it, and his body betrayed him, reacting with arousal, he could feel his cock growing hard. 

A hard slap and Bruce was looking to the other side of the room, blinking in shock as pain bloomed over his cheek, hot and mingling with the humiliation of helplessness. “Shut up, Bruce! You can’t say you don’t like it… You can’t say you don’t like me, not this time!” Another hard slap and Bruce had to strain to turn his head, to look at Dick, the snarling rage that bubbled out of him. 

It was the sex pollen… It was whatever Poison Ivy had done to them. It would wear off and then they would… 

“I’ve _heard_ you for years, Bruce…” Dick broke off with a sob, a groan, Bruce couldn’t be sure, but then the pain was surging from his nethers. Dick was scalding against him where they touched, connected. Connected in a way that Bruce had tried so hard to keep from happening… “The way you cry out, the way you _beg_ …” Another slap and Bruce’s face felt like an inferno, like Clark had just struck him with his laser vision, boiling, searing his flesh away until he was nothing but a straining, gasping heap. “Queen, Aquaman,” Dick spat at him, and there was no use denying it. “Orion, Stewart, _Kent_ … But oh, you’ve _always_ liked him, haven’t you? One of your favourites.” 

Dick was moving now, a brutal pace, no easing into it, just pure fucking. It was awful and Bruce moaned, his cock hard, Dick’s harder as it slid in and out of him with more drag than Bruce ever cared for. Fingers clawed at his face and Bruce could only let Dick’s fingers press into his mouth, gagging him, cutting him off from air that had already been difficult to get. 

“I _knew_ you liked me… You bastard!” His hips snapped faster, his free hand around Bruce’s cock and he hated that he groaned around the fingers half choking him. His hips canted and it _had_ to be the sex pollen. “All these years and you _selfish bastard_!” 

He was selfish… He was. 

Bruce spurned Dick, he ignored his advances, his casual flirting. He drilled him harder on proper patrolling and preserving the scenes they came across. Anything to make the boy hate him. And he thought it had worked… Dick left for college and it was fine… 

Flesh slapping against flesh and Bruce could only make horrible little noises, noises that he knew Dick would never be able to forget. Broken sobs, cut off curses, pained cries as he choked around callused fingers and the dryness of his own throat. Dick, in the cloud of the sex pollen, could believe that it meant Bruce was enjoying it… But tomorrow… 

Bruce almost prayed that Dick wouldn’t remember, too lost to the pollen to form the necessary memories to hold onto this horrific night. 

When had either of them been so lucky… 

Dick’s breath was coming in harder, his thrusts more uneven and Bruce could feel the full weight of him now, but his strokes were too rushed, they lacked the precision Bruce wanted. He grimaced at himself for that, the sex pollen affecting him more and more now as Dick jostled and jerked and shook off more of the pollen onto him. 

Bruce hated that his body enjoyed it, hated more that his mind could accept it. Dick’s breath was coming in sharp little gasps, his fingers clawing at Bruce’s face, skittering down to grab Bruce’s cock and he groaned into the touch. It wouldn’t be enough, not with Dick groaning and then— 

“B-Bruce!” Dick cried out, his head thrown back, his cock fully within Bruce and he could feel Dick twitching and spasming, spilling inside of him. Bruce shuddered to think of the consequences, as his cock asked for more, but he knew he couldn’t. 

Enough muscle function returned for Bruce to bat away Dick’s hand, but he had no strength to push him off, to roll away, and he had even less desire to do so. It would only cause more damage to their strained relationship to push Dick away, to make him feel reviled and hated, and so, Bruce accepted what Dick gave to him, did to him, wanted from him in his pollen-crazed state. 

All too soon, the sun would rise, bringing morning to Gotham, only so another night could prepare itself. Another night of stalking through the grit and dirt of Gotham. Another night of accepting pain and pushing through his sadness, for the sake of others. 

Dick collapsed on top of him, wheezing, panting and… Bruce could feel the wetness of hot tears on his chest, he could hear the restrained sobs, the lithe body laying heavy on him, trembling. 

“B-Bruce…?” Dick gasped out, but Bruce held him down, forcing him to stay against his chest, finally able to move again. His arms were heavy, but he used whatever strength he could muster to hold Dick to him, to keep him safe from reality, for just a moment more… 

“ _Hush_ …” Bruce forced out, his lips raw, his cheek hot, his jaw sore. It wasn’t Dick’s fault… Dick struggled and Bruce growled that growl that always ended every argument, stopped every struggle, every tussle. 

Bruce could forgive Dick, but Dick was never going to forgive himself.


End file.
